


Falling (For You)

by TheHuggamugCafe



Series: Christmas Drabbles (SFW) [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ice Skating, Reader Pining For The Trickiest Trickster, Reader-Insert, incubus!Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29280840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuggamugCafe/pseuds/TheHuggamugCafe
Summary: “Keep this up and I might start thinking you’refallingfor me.”If he only knew how right he is.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Reader, Persona 5 Protagonist/Reader
Series: Christmas Drabbles (SFW) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574497
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Falling (For You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freebird97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freebird97/gifts).



> Mmm, _boy_ , am I ever a sucker for this sort of scenario!
> 
> This is a late, _very_ late, Christmas gift to the one and only classy nerd: freebird97.
> 
> Do enjoy your slice of Ren Amamiya, darling~.
> 
> And I hope that you, dear reader, also enjoy this musing!
> 
> A quick but _very_ welcomed shout-out goes to my wonderful friend, Lafrenze, for assisting me with completing this musing! Much thanks, hon!

“You can let go of the ramp anytime, you know.”

The light teasing undertone of your friend’s voice, Ren’s voice, makes you point a scathing look at him. The irritated hum that tickles the back of your throat draws a silent line in the sand or, rather, in the frozen ice rink you’re standing in the midst of so many others. Your gloved hands are clinging to the ramp like your life depends on it. Silently, you pray to whatever god or gods are willing to listen to your quiet begging, _hoping_ that he or she or they will suddenly gift you with the ability to stand upright on the ice, that you will be able to let go of the ramp and magically gain the ability to skate.

Air leaves you in a cloudy mist as you exhale in frustration, the white puff dancing in the chilly atmosphere, shooting indignant glares at the other people who surround you.

Mothers hold their children’s tiny hands, leading them onto the ice with a gentle smile of maternal warmth, and words of soothing encouragement leave their glossy lips curling to small, tooth-filled grins. Fathers carry their daughters on their shoulders, the little girls beaming with cheeks rosy from the rink’s brisk air. No sight is more infuriating than seeing a boyfriend guiding his girlfriend onto the ice.

You watch, stewing in jealousy, as the girls laugh and giggle, simpering affectionately at their man with batting lashes and bold kisses to the cheek. You watch as a few competitors in upcoming figure skating contests ties up their laces, polishing off with a bow tie not unlike a Christmas present being wrapped, and nodding in satisfaction before gliding on to the ice with a grace that can only be called _angelic_ in your mind.

You feel and sense the scowl forming, wrestling for—and inevitably winning—control over your face. You feel your brows pinching the slant of your eyes; you feel your lips pursing to a thin, straight line; you feel the bubble of annoyance rising inside; your eyes may as well be spitting green fire.

Why can’t you move the way they can?

Why do you let uncertainty and, to be honest, _fear_ of embarrassing yourself in front of all of these faceless strangers keep you reined in, clinging to the ramp like a child clings to its mother?

Furthermore, _where_ are your teammates?

Remembering that it’s just you and Ren on the ice with countless other strangers makes you antsy. You recall it being Ann’s suggestion to come to the ice rink in the first place. The blonde, blue-eyed model’s thought was quickly vouched for by the others. Ryuji was in it simply for the food and the chance to relax with his friends. Yusuke saw it as an opportunity to capture people in their most laid-back, most intimate moments with their significant other, friends, and their families.

In fact, the Thieves’ eccentric artist had chuckled at the thought, smiling as he seemed—and looked—positively thrilled at having so many muses at his fingertips, _literally_. Morgana isn’t allowed into the rink, being seen as nothing but a pet in the human world, but you don’t doubt that he’s snuck in, and you’re sure that he’s already patrolling the halls somewhere. You can see Makoto sitting with Haru and Futaba in the stands, the former smiling as her crimson irises miss nothing when it comes to keeping an eye on her friends. The latter duo are laughing at some shared joke as Futaba’s glasses glint, hinting of her mischievous mood, and Haru smiles over the plastic rim of her Styrofoam cup filled with coffee.

A quiet chuckle pulls you from your musings, making you glance at the frizzy-haired young man, black-framed glasses and lukewarm onyx eyes and all: Ren Amamiya. The one you and your friends look to for both leadership and companionship. As he is Ren Amamiya in the real world, you and your fellow Phantom Thieves know him by his codename in the Metaverse: Joker.

“ _What_ is so funny?” you ask, hissing the question through a set jaw and clenched teeth.

The glass specs glint as Ren raises a hand, gloved fingers pushing them up a bit on his nose. You take quiet note of the smile that quirks, pulls on the corners of his lips. “I apologize. I don’t mean to laugh at you, it’s just…”

“Just _what_?”

“You look cute when you’re trying so hard.”

“…”

You say nothing. You don’t trust your voice to roll off of your tongue, to leave your lips that have already curled to a shameless _o_ shape. The indoor rink’s icy air is a silent blessing to your cheeks. They’re still burning, but in embarrassment now. Ren notices. You know he does because another little laugh—and you will never, ever admit that you think his chuckles are adorable—escapes him. He’s still smiling as he watches you, reaching forward with a hand.

“Come on. It’s not that bad.”

“N-No!” you splutter, equal parts worried, frustrated, and afraid. “I’ll fall!”

“You won’t.”

“How do _you_ know, Mr. Show-off?”

“Because I’ll be there to catch you, Ms. Smarty Pants.”

You stare, mouth now agape. You blink slowly, owlishly, quietly admitting that he brings up a valid point. Why would your friend, your leader, your confidant, your crush— _no, he isn’t! I don’t like Ren that way!_ you hiss mentally—be here at your side, offering you a hand if he isn’t being sincere?

Still…

“ _Because I’ll be there to catch you…”_

You won’t admit that your heart is pounding in your breastbone, fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings.

You won’t acknowledge the perspiration layering your crown, making your skin warm and moist.

You won’t fess up to the emotional conflict waging inside you.

You won’t confess that you like Ren Amamiya _more_ than a friend, _more_ than a confidant, and most certainly _more_ than a loyal associate should reasonably like their leader.

But…

How can you stop yourself from believing what Ren says, watching his soft smile and his gentle obsidian eyes as he speaks so honestly to you?

_Ren will never lie to you…_

That thought is what makes you finally reach forward with a hand.

_If you cannot trust your leader, how can you believe him when he assures you he won’t let you fall?_

That musing is what makes your gloved palm and wool clad fingers wrap around Ren’s.

_I trust Ren. He is my friend; he is my leader; he is my confidant. I want Ren to like me. I want him to appreciate my presence._

Silently, you exhale a sigh; steam hisses in the cool, borderline chilly air. You feel Ren staring at you; you know that he’s watching you, quietly analyzing you. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look away, cheeks burning pink—they’re no longer just flushed from the indoor rink’s cold air, you begrudgingly admit as much in your mind—as your gaze falls upon a couple in a similar situation as you and Ren are.

You watch as the male gently leads his shy girlfriend by the hands, guiding her onto the ice rink with nothing more than a kindhearted gesture of guidance, soft eyes, and a reassuring smile.

The sight paints a similar picture of you and Ren.

Rather…

_It’s what I wished the two of us could be._

Your moody thought does little to cheer you up—no, wait, scratch that. Scratch it off completely. It isn’t helping your current mood _at all_. After all…

_What could someone like Ren possibly see in someone like me? Compared to him, I’m—_

That downtrodden thought is what makes your weak grasp on Ren’s hands falter, and you feel your eyes widening as gravity takes your body in its inevitable hold. A puff of white escapes your lips as you exhale sharply, watching as the crystalline ice shoots up to greet your face—

Only to feel _something_ catch you as you begin your descent to the frosty surface of the indoor skating rink, catching you by the arms and looping around your waist, to be specific. You blink and slowly raise your eyes upward, hands clasped to your chest while straightening your posture, and feeling a certain someone assisting you in standing upright. Soon, you’re staring into charcoal irises, watching as the tiniest of smirks curls the corner of Ren’s mouth.

There is something… _off_ , even… untamed, even _feral_ , about that seemingly normal twitch that makes the corner of his lips curl up, that characteristic smirk that seems so… So _Ren_.

It reminds you of how he acts in the Metaverse as Joker; you can’t count how many times you have seen your leader smirk, seen his grey eyes shining with confidence. The best description you can think of, one that even comes remotely close to depicting Ren as he is right now, is shameless and flirty. It’s subtle, quiet, but sly; it’s so very, very much like Ren. There, but only if you _truly_ looked.

“Um… Thanks for that save, Ren. I’d rather not face-plant to the ice today,” you say, laughing sheepishly as your cheeks burn pink.

And not just from the indoor rink’s chilly air.

“You’re welcome. I’m always happy to help a friend out.”

The smirk fades—it’s slowly becoming a smile, you notice—to a small, genuine grin that shows a teasing hint of his pearly whites. It takes everything you have not to show displeasure on your face; it takes every bit of willpower you have not to let unhappiness shine in your eyes.

_I’m just… a friend to him…_

“Are you okay…?” Ren asks, staring at you as he tilts his head to the side, curious.

“I’m alright! Really! So, ah, about that offer of guiding my clumsy self around the rink… Is that still available, Ren?”

You can’t help but mentally flinch at the faint, very thin—but painfully obvious—traces of the stutter that possesses your words as they roll off of your tongue, as they leave your lips. Your quiet hope of Ren not asking you about what’s bothering you isn’t dashed as he stares, not blinking, for what seems like forever. He finally nods and, much to your unspoken displeasure, slowly releases your waist from the gentle hold his arms, his hands have on your body.

Gingerly, he takes possession of your hand; his grip is tender, but betrays a hint of firmness. The way he’s holding your hand is a perfect companion to the cold warmth in his eyes, how the corners of his lips quirk ever so slightly to betray a barely-there smile.

“Follow my lead,” Ren says, reaching for your other hand. You didn’t notice you were silently offering it for him to take until it, your hand, rested in his own.

You swallow, nodding as you do. “Okay.” Quietly, you’re cursing the anxious edge that clings to your voice as it rolls off of your tongue,

You exhale sharply; a puff of white leaves your mouth. As though to mock your shaky-at-best improvement in your skating ability (you thank your lucky stars that you haven’t fallen over, even while holding one of Ren’s hands), gravity once again takes hold of you when you foolishly let go of one of Ren’s hands. His mouth opens as your own hangs agape, curving to an _o_ as the sheet of ice shoots up to meet you—

Your descent to the frosty white beneath your feet is short-lived, thankfully. You feel a familiar warmth wrap around you, holding you firmly and yet with a gentleness that doesn’t surprise you at all.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

Heat slowly crawls up your neck to shamelessly tickle your cheeks with a burning sensation, one that doesn’t have anything to do with the icy evening breeze. You look up and when you do, you’re greeted by a familiar sight.

Ren is smirking. It reminds you so much of when you and your fellow Phantom Thieves were in the Metaverse, when he donned the mantle of the leader, Joker. Even the confidence swimming in his grey irises is mischievous; it’s very Trickster-like.

“Come on, take my hands again.”

You swallow; the gulp is thick. It, the gulp, stubbornly sticks at the back of your throat like a wad of glue. You still listen to Ren, nodding as you raise your hands as he does the same. Soon, your gloved hands rest in his; your fingers touch his, your palms rest on his.

“Don’t look at others this time. Keep your eyes on _me_ , sweetheart.”

_S-Sweetheart?_

The feeling of heat crawling up your neck to shamelessly dust your cheeks with a kiss of rose is, sadly, not lost on you. You clear your throat, averting your gaze away from him for a few moments. You look back when he betrays a chuckle, huffing indignantly.

“D-Don’t laugh at me!”

“Hard not to when you blush like that. It’s cute.”

Your mouth falls open, staring at him with wide eyes. “Is… Is that so?”

“Mmhm.”

Ren says nothing else as he begins to glide back, never letting go of your hands all the while doing so. He offers you advice whenever he sees you falter or hesitating to move, which is more often than not, much to your quiet chagrin.

“ _Pull your hips back a bit.”_

“ _Bend your knees more.”_

“ _Don’t be so tense.”_

“ _Take a deep breath and let it out.”_

“ _Don’t let your worries win.”_

“ _I’m here to catch you if you fall. Remember that.”_

You heed his instructions to the letter. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you watch him. More specifically, you observe how he’s treating you; his patience is endless, like that of a saint’s. It’s to be expected of him: he is your leader, your friend and your confidant, after all.

Ren’s guidance seems to be paying off when, after a few minutes of him gently coaxing you into the flow, your legs don’t cave in as much as they did before. Your knees aren’t shaking anymore and you’re able to stand on your own.

When you look up at him, face _glowing_ with delight and your lips pulling back into a pleased smile, you laugh. “Look, Ren! I can do it! I can _stand_!”

Ren chuckles. “Good job. I knew you could do it.”

But your mood sours a bit when your tenacity gets the better of you. One of your hands drops from his; the other doesn’t let go of his second hand. You may be confident, but not enough to risk falling flat on your face, even though Ren is here to ensure that that doesn’t happen. However, the moment your gloved fingers slip from his is the moment gravity, once again, takes its natural hold on you.

For the umpteenth time this evening, your fall from grace is cut short by Ren catching you. The cordial feeling of his warmth surrounding you fades, however, as it generally does when he pulls away from you.

It takes everything you have not to give away your disappointment, not to show how much you want to be wrapped in his arms and never leave.

But when you look back up, having dipped your head to silently stew in your feelings, you’re surprised to see him smirking. You tilt your head, blinking owlishly as humanity’s natural poison, curiosity, is injected into you.

“Ren, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t reply; his smirk twitches at the edge, obsidian irises shining mischievously.

“Are you good to stand on your own for a bit?”

You voice a hum but you nod, assuring him that you can.

“Wait here, okay?”

You nod, pushing down a sense of loss as the black-haired young man glides away from you.

 _Now he’s just showing off…_ You think, watching as Ren skates his way around the rink. You vaguely note that you aren’t the only one who’s got their eyes on him, but as far as you’re concerned, it’s only you and Ren standing on the ice now.

His clothing loosely billows as he all but flies across the sheet of white, his frizzy noir locks being tussled by the wintry air as he speeds by you, passing you a ghost of a smile before he continues on his way.

His movements are as fluid as water; you can’t spot a mistake no matter how hard you look, and by God, you’re _looking_. Your eyes follow him as he’s literally skating circles around the others, hands folded behind his back. You watch as he performs a few tricks: spins and twirls, strong punts that kick up shavings of ice, polishing off his act with befuddling twists in the air before, finally, his landing ends the show.

With the way Ren’s skates touch the ice, so perfect and with a grace that’s almost angelic, you can’t help but wonder if there’s some sort of unseen cheat sheet he’s consulting. His performance is breathtaking and, admittedly, a bit intimidating; how did he get to be _this_ good at skating?

It’s especially telling because his mannerisms—the smirks, the laughs, the impish twinkle in his grey eyes whenever he flew past you—are very much like his Joker persona.

“ _What_ ,” you ask, watching him as he skates up to you, smirking all the while, “are you _doing_? Trying to make everyone here look horrible?”

Despite your best efforts, despite the harsh tone clipping at your words, you feel a smile curling your lips, shaking your head as you giggle.

“Ah, but I only sought to put on the best show just for _you_ , dear.”

You try your best to ignore the fact that once again, a prick of warmth blooms anew across your face as Ren’s smirking visage leans in closer as he talks, lips curling as he chuckles, fanning your blushing bride face with a hit of hot air.

“It was _only_ for you. This, I promise you.”

You stutter, clearing your throat as you avert your eyes from the college freshman.

“If you say so…”

You shake your head a second time, forgetting your place for a spell as you step forward. You feel your leg kicking out from underneath you, your foot slipping as you begin yet another descent to the sheet of frosty white. You exhale sharply as a pair of arms catch you around the waist, stopping you from hitting the ice on your butt and making an utter fool out of yourself in front of your friends, and in front of strangers.

You sigh, feeling your hands curling as they unconsciously clutch at the fabric of Ren’s winter coat. His chest thrums as a laugh runs through him, gently shaking his shoulders.

“This is awkward,” you mutter into his clothed chest.

You tilt your head back and jerk up your chin, staring Ren in the face as you sigh.

“How do you deal with me, Ren? Most people would’ve called it quits by now.”

“Well, we are confidants, aren’t we?” Also…” Ren pushes up the black-framed glasses sitting on his nose; they shimmer under the Christmas lights. “Is it not a gentleman’s duty to ensure a lady is capable of skating?”

“Huh?”

“Maybe I’m guilty of being privileged to see you looking so flustered. It’s a new, refreshing side of you that I…”

“…Yes?”

But he doesn’t say what’s on his mind. In fact, he doesn’t speak for a few moments that seem to stretch on into eternity before, at last, his lips curve and he smiles down at you.

“Keep this up and I might start thinking you’re _falling_ for me.”

Your mind churns to a full-on stop. Your heart skips a few beats in your breast before kicking up again, racing like a songbird in flight. You think you hear—and you definitely do see—him laughing, but it’s like all the activity has abruptly ceased. It’s like someone pressed an invisible pause button, freezing everything and everyone surrounding you and Ren.

“Was my joke so terrible that you won’t even laugh at it?”

His question yanks you out of your miserable daze, blinking several times as you bump up your chin, raising your eyes so that you meet his inquisitive stare.

“Come on.” He speaks after a short reprieve, his voice shattering the silence. “I’ll treat you to some hot chocolate as an apology.”

The few minutes following Ren’s offer pass by you in a blur. You both leave the rink in silence, settling on the bench and taking off your skates, forsaking them for your winter footwear. You follow him to the snack bar with tension gripping you in its big, wretched claws, making you grip the hem of your winter coat as your teeth gently bite down on your lower lip.

Soon, the soothing aroma of chocolate tickles your nose and you look up: a Styrofoam cup is in front of your gaze, gently pinched in your leader’s capable hand. You take it with a soft word of thanks, gripping it in both hands as Ren smiles gently.

The heat warms your palms through the Styrofoam cup. You stare into the creamy depths of your hot chocolate, feeling the steam rising up to warm your cheeks; you take the velvety scent of chocolate-y goodness into your lungs when you breathe in. It’s only in the middle of when Ren is talking about taking you back on the ice is when you decide that yes, now is a good time to speak up and let your thoughts be known to him.

“What happened earlier is _your_ fault, you know.”

“Hmm. Is it?”

You jerk your eyes up from the milky smooth abyss that is your Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate. Steam wafts up from the open top, dancing airily across your skin and warming your cheeks. You huff as you turn about-face, looking at him more properly.

“ _Yes_.”

“And what, pray tell, is it that I’ve done that’s infuriated you so?”

“You know what it is.”

“I’m afraid I don’t. Enlighten me, please.”

_He says that, but the smirk he’s wearing tells a completely different story._

You decide to humour him anyway.

“I told you I couldn’t skate and yet you insisted on taking me out onto that rink.”

“But it’s precisely _because_ you didn’t know how to skate that I did so.”

Ren stares at you over the rim of his cup of white hot chocolate, eyes twinkling merrily as he watches you gape like a fish out of water. Your mouth hangs open and closes a few times before you finally sputter, “Are you _kidding me_ right now?” in clear disbelief.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Ren…”

His name is dipped in ire as it spills from your lips, as it rolls off of your tongue. The Styrofoam rim is still touching his mouth before it’s lowered, slowly. You tilt your head, blinking owlishly.

_He’s smiling… Why is he smiling—?_

Your mouth opens, hanging agape as you stupidly stare ahead; your brain is unable to process what has just taken place. But there’s no mistaking the feeling of Ren’s lips pressing to your forehead.

It doesn’t last, however, since the frizzy-haired Trickster pulls back, but the sensation of a phantom kiss lingering on your crown fails to leave you as you stare up at Ren, face blooming with a deep blush as you sputter nonsense for a few moments.

The cackles and croons of a few nearby customers makes you flush harder, holding your piping hot drink in one hand as a free one goes up to toy with your hat, tugging it down over your burning ears.

“Wh-What was _that_ for?”

Ren hums, lips still curled to a smile. “You looked chilly. I thought you were in need of a bit of warming up, dearest.”

_Teasing. You’re always teasing me, Ren._

“There are other ways to go about it!”

_Why is he teasing me?_

“Are there now?”

_Doesn’t he know that I like him? It’s not like it’s a big secret; even Ryuji figured it out._

“Yes, of course!”

_Why is he always testing me?_

“Why not show me what you mean?”

Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but wonder if you should even indulge him; he’s _clearly_ challenging you, but curious enough to wonder if you’ll actually go through with it. You breathe a huff, watching him as he seems to be bathing in a haughty satisfaction, fooling himself into thinking that his deduction about you is correct, _again_.

“What, don’t tell me you’re feeling shy now? I suppose I can’t—”

You aren’t sure who’s more surprised, you or Ren, when you suddenly reach up, fingers curling around the front of his coat and sharply yank him down. The feeling of your lips pressing against Ren’s is something you won’t trade for anything in this world; the taste of hot chocolate mixing with white hot chocolate is beautiful and sweet. You see his eyes widen a fraction behind those silly fake glasses, his mouth popping open, but you swallow that lovely gasp of surprise he breathes into your mouth.

You pull back, letting your bold action give you the courage you so desperately need to nip on his bottom lip, gently, as a sort of farewell before you lean away completely. You release the iron-clad grip your fingers have on his coat, smoothing out the wrinkles before you pull your hand back.

Surprisingly, Ren recovers more quickly than you. You’re too mired in shock, too caught up in your mixed bag of emotions to realize that your chin is in the crook of Ren’s hand before it’s too late. Your chin is tilted up, slowly and gently, so that you’re looking him dead in the eyes as he smirks. It’s a smirk you’ve seen so many, many times before in the Metaverse. The barely-there grin is complimented by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes; Ren looks like a Trickster in the mood to play.

“I was wondering when you’d give me my present.”

“Wh— You knew?”

Ren’s smile twitches. “I’ve known for a while now. It was kind of cute, seeing you think you were sly enough to hide it from me.”

“Then… Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, shoulders deflating; your low spirits is obvious in your voice.

“I wanted to see if you would act on your impulses as you often do, and it seems…” He pauses, raising a hand and linking his fingers through yours, offering your hand a gentle squeeze. “I was wonderfully correct.”

“Oh,” you mutter, cheeks dusting with a hint of colour. “I’m sorry… That I took this long to do anything.”

The chuckle that shadows your confession is a relief to hear. “No, it was worth the wait. Please don’t worry, sweetheart.”

_Sweetheart… I rather like that title…_

You hum, smiling as warmth blooms in your chest. Your heart flutters as you return the hand squeeze, slowly, carefully, as though Ren’s hand is spun glass.

“If you behave yourself, maybe I’ll give you another surprise.”

You giggle, eyes shining with delight as you bob your head.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe me if I said that I aimed for this to be 2,000 words, tops, when I first began to muse for this?
> 
> …
> 
> Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either.


End file.
